Compatible Weirdness
by KelinciHutan
Summary: Phil Coulson (who is a dork) thought he was married to his job. But that was before he met...well, several people, actually. A sedoretu-fic, drawing on the concept from The Birthday Of The World by Ursula K. LeGuin.
1. First Meetings

**Warnings/****Tags**: sedoretu, AU-canon, rarepairs  
**Spoilers**: _Captain America; __Thor; Avengers; Iron Mans 1, 2, and 3; Agents Of SHIELD_ — Basically everything.  
**Disclaimer**: The characters of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and all that comes with them are the property of Marvel Studios, ABC, or both. No money has changed hands, and no copyright infringement is intended or implied.  
**Author's Notes**: I mostly wrote this to see if I could. I've never written anything shippy before. (So, naturally, I jump in with a sedoretu-fic. What?) Let me know how you think I did.

The title is based on the following quote. "We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." Dr. Seuss. 

Note for readers unfamiliar with sedoretu:

Society is divided into two halves or moieties, called (for ancient religious reasons) the Morning and the Evening. You belong to your mother's moiety, and you can't have sex with anybody of your moiety.

Marriage is a foursome, the sedoretu — a man and a woman from the Morning moiety and a man and a woman from the Evening moiety. You're expected to have sex with both your spouses of the other moiety, and not to have sex with your spouse of your own moiety. So each sedoretu has two expected heterosexual relationships, two expected homosexual relationships, and two forbidden heterosexual relationships.

The expected relationships within each sedoretu are:  
- The Morning woman and the Evening man (the "Morning marriage")  
- The Evening woman and the Morning man (the "Evening marriage")  
- The Morning woman and the Evening woman (the "Day marriage")  
- The Morning man and the Evening man (the "Night marriage")

The forbidden relationships are between the Morning woman and the Morning man, and between the Evening woman and the Evening man, and they aren't called anything, except sacrilege.

It's just as complicated as it sounds, but aren't most marriages?

("Mountain Ways" by Ursula K. LeGuin)

* * *

Phil Couson did not tell anyone how much he was looking forward to debriefing Tony Stark.

Most of his coworkers probably guessed. Everyone at the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division (they really needed a new name) knew that he was a massive dork (when he wasn't shooting people or putting the fear of God into them by being terrifyingly impassive). They knew about the Captain America collecting, for example. And that was fine. So they knew he was a little bit of an expert on Stark's father. And they knew that his favorite sidearm was a SI H18 .45. It never jammed. It never misfired. It was the perfect gun. It had always driven him nuts wondering how Stark had designed such a magnificent weapon, and everyone knew he wanted to ask him that.

Everyone also knew he was far too professional to do that at a debrief. Because he might be a dork, but he knew what the words 'time' and 'place' meant.

No, the people who knew he was looking forward to the debrief thought that it was because Stark had An Effect on the entire evening moiety. Seriously. He'd seen it written like that before.

Whether there was An Effect or not, Phil was not a teenage girl so he was looking forward to the debrief for professional reasons. His organization had been after the Ten Rings for years. They'd claimed jurisdiction out from under the FBI and CIA so many times he'd lost count (there was rumor that someone in the NSA had actually turned a bulletin board into a dart board filled with nothing but pictures of Nick Fury). He was definitely looking forward to speaking with someone who had actually _met_ these people. Stark knew things. He wanted to know what Stark knew.

He hadn't expected Pepper Potts.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts, Stark's personal assistant/handler/babysitter, the perfect evening to Stark's morning, who carried herself in a way that said she absolutely had not fallen for Stark's bullshit, spent their entire first encounter stonewalling and lying to him about setting up a time to debrief her boss. And making fun of the name of his division.

Which, to be fair, was eminently mockable.

Then she turned to him, gave him a brilliant smile, and said, "Here." In her hand was a business card. It was black and sleek and glossy. It had the Stark Industries logo, her name, no job title, and a phone number printed neatly on the bottom. On the back, in white ink, another number was written in a neat hand. Beneath that was an email address.

He fished out one of his own cards, printed on the usual heavy cardstock reserved for government peons. He scribbled his number on the back (his handwriting wasn't nearly so neat, but it was legible enough for government work), and handed it back.

She tucked it into her phone case with a smile. "I look forward to hearing from you."

After the press conference, Phil realized that his very favorite gun was not going to be produced anymore. That was incredibly disappointing. He set his phone to send Pepper an automated email every morning at 8:00 asking for a time for their scheduled debriefing. Because he knew she would have done exactly the same thing in his position and probably had done very similar things for Stark over the years. So he knew she wouldn't mind.

She ignored the email. And she texted him a picture of Stark's robots Dum-E and U that afternoon. They were playing Jenga.

Phil decided that Stark might be unbelievably brilliant, but he was also incredibly weird. He texted that back to her.

"You have no idea," was her reply.

When a few days went by with nothing but more texts, Phil decided to take a more direct approach. He used his badge to get into a Stark Industries charity ball that he knew Pepper would be attending. He tried not to think about how even his nicest suit still left him woefully under dressed as he took up a station by the bar to scan the room.

A voice beside him said, "Gimmie a Scotch, I'm starving."

Phil turned and there, much to his surprise, Tony Stark himself was standing next to him, big as life.

Phil tried not mind how ridiculous he must look next to Tony Stark, wearing his cheap suit and wrinkles, balding, and with just a tiny bit of gray in the hair he had left. He most definitely tried not to contrast that with the fact that Stark looked _exactly_ like he did in all the pictures and was wearing was was, at minimum, several thousand dollars of designer clothes. Though he wasn't as tall as he'd seemed in the magazines. In fact, they were basically the same height.

"Mr. Stark," he said out loud, because he was hardly going to let a chance like this pass by.

"Yeah-huh?" Stark said absently, turning to look him over. And then he did it again, up and down, like he was trying to be sure about something.

"I'm Agent Coulson."

Stark's lips twitched. "Oh, yeah, yeah! From the…ah…"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division," Phil said.

While he was rattling off the name, Stark's drink arrived. Stark collected it, and offered Phil an almost conspiratorial look. "You need a new name for that."

"Yeah." Prompted by a desire to at least be able to say this was an actual conversation, he added, "We hear that a lot."

Stark turned and looked him over again.

"Listen, I know this must be a trying time for you, but we need to debrief you."

Stark's lips twitched again, and Phil could practically see the puns surrounding "debrief" that Stark was heroically not making. Perhaps this was why he supposedly had An Effect on the entire evening moiety. Because, as much as Phil was pretending he didn't notice it, the casual flirting was nice.

"There's still a lot of unanswered questions and time can be a factor with these things."

Stark was distracted by something.

Hoping to at least get him to commit to a time, Phil said, "Let's just put something on the books. How about the twenty-fourth, at seven PM, at Stark Industries?"

He would be surprised if Stark had even heard him. He was gazing at a beautiful evening woman with glorious red hair. She was across the room, and wearing a royal blue dress. Then she turned her head, and Phil realized he was seeing _Pepper_. He nodded in approval. However oblivious he'd been, Stark was noticing her now.

"Tell you what," Stark said, holding out a hand to Phil, "you got it. You're absolutely right."

Phil was impressed. He hadn't actually expect Stark to reply to him, let alone say something that was actually in complete sentences.

"We'll…ah…" Stark cut himself off and then glanced to Phil. "I'm going to go to my assistant and we'll…make a date."

He wandered towards Pepper and Phil rolled his eyes. He was not going to get anything more out of either of them tonight, so he left.

The next time he saw Pepper, the agency brass had _finally_ figured out what to call their organization and she was racing out of Obediah Stane's office at SI headquarters, breathing too fast, and one lock of hair was falling from her professional half up-do. She hadn't fixed it.

Something was wrong.

He wasn't sure if this thing was personal, so he decided to give her an escape route. "Miss Potts, we had an appointment. Did you forget about our appointment?" There. If she didn't need him, she could find some way to beg off from that one.

"Nope! Right now," she answered, not slowing in her walk. "Come with me."

He stood, surprised. Not personal, then. And by the looks of things, very serious.

Then she said, "Your office."

Ah. Serious, and requiring intervention from someone with a LEO job.

Phil took her to his cubicle in the office they held in the city, and as she sat in the dingy, much-less-comfortable-than-it-looked chair in front of his desk, she poured out her story. Tony Stark hadn't just survived his stint with the Ten Rings, he'd been inspired to build new tech. (Of _course_ he had.) A weaponized flight suit and a miniature arc reactor. (What?) Obediah Stane had been illegally selling Stark weapons to terrorist groups, including the Ten Rings. Stark hadn't known, but now that he'd found out he was trying to stop him.

Those last two items were going to account for a mountain of paperwork all by themselves, Phil realized. Even if Stark wasn't involved, some members of his company must've been, and that was treason. He was going to be authorizing a few all-expenses-paid vacations to Guantanamo Bay very soon, and even one of those was at least one dead tree all on its own.

He leaned back in his chair. "I wonder if Stark's really worth it," he sighed.

"Tony is worth every second of trouble he puts you through," Pepper snarled at him.

Phil blinked. Because in that second he'd realized two things. First, that he'd spoken out loud. (Dork!) And second, that Pepper was absolutely, irrevocably, hopelessly in love with Stark.

Years later, he told himself that that's when he started loving her. The two of them were the same. They even had the same job. His just involved more actual use of heavy weaponry than hers did. But they both spent their days making sure somebody else's mess didn't get too far out of hand. They had understood each other the instant they met. He'd only had that easy camaraderie with one other person in his life.

At the time, however, he thought none of these things. Because the rest of that night was taken up with hunting Obediah Stane through a darkened factory and then sending the rest of his team to the hospital, and trying to clear the freeway of civilians while Stark and Stane and their suits of armor fought. Then there was getting Stark to the hospital and recovering Stane's body (what was left of it) from the factory.

It was a long night. But somewhere in the middle of all of that, he found time to change his daily email to Pepper. Now, when it chimed tomorrow at 8:00, it would only say "Good morning!" Because he didn't want to lose touch with her, but he didn't want to remind her of the night, either.

Also there was the minor fact that at this point, it just wasn't worth it to pretend he wasn't a dork.

With as hectic and sleepless a night as he'd had, he was surprised that when he saw Stark the next morning, he was fairly calm about the whole thing. Although that might be more to do with the fact that he was exhausted at that point.

Pepper, however, looked better. That made it worth it.

Stark looked him up and down again. Apparently he was still trying to decide about whatever-it-was.

That was weird.

Phil walked him through the alibi.

"I was thinking we should say it was just Pepper and me," Stark protested.

Pepper did not look pleased at this suggestion.

"That's what happened," Phil said firmly. "Just read it word for word."

Stark looked over the cards and his expression grew oddly fixed. "There's nothing about Stane here."

Phil knew about Stark's father, but not really much about him. He did know that Obediah Stane was Stark's morning father. In fact, he'd been the only living member of the Stark sedoretu until last night. He doubted Stark had called the man "Stane" growing up, but couldn't blame him for now rejecting whatever that title had been. Phil was a bit unsure how to proceed. So, he opted for—most of—the truth.

"That's being handled. He's on vacation." And because he felt like Stark deserved to know what was going to be said about the man he'd grown up loving, he added, "Small aircraft have such a…poor safety record."

Stark launched straight into protesting that Iron Man could be his bodyguard, so Phil decided he must've safely navigated that particular minefield.

"Just stick to the official statement and soon this will all be behind you," Phil said. "You've got…ninety seconds." And he left Pepper and Stark alone.

Or tried to. Pepper followed him. "Agent Coulson," she said, catching him in the doorway. "I just wanted to say thank you for all of your help."

Phil gave her a tiny smile, trying to keep hold of his professional impassivity when what he really wanted to do was give her a hug and tell her to call him whenever she was in the most minuscule amount of trouble. Spiders in her bathroom, even.

In lieu of this, he nodded and said, "That's what we do. You'll be hearing from us."

Pepper gave him a mischievous smirk. "From the Strategic Homeland Interv—"

"Just call us SHIELD," he answered, managing to sound reassuring, instead of smug at being able to trump her.

Her cheerful grin would've been reward enough on its own, but Stark was looking him over yet again.

Phil _did not __smile_ as he turned to take up his place to observe the press conference.

…Where Stark decided to just ignore the whole alibi thing. Apparently that would've been too easy.


	2. Three

**Author's Notes**: Yes, I am aware of the irony of naming the second chapter "Three." Roll with it.

* * *

Phil recommended Stark for inclusion in the Avengers Initiative. He did not mention he was still sending daily emails to Pepper. He did not mention she was texting him pictures all the time now. Tony, the robots, Stark Industries.

He definitely did not mention that sometimes, Stark was smiling at the camera in these pictures. Stark knew Pepper was in contact with him. And he was encouraging it.

Phil didn't know what to do with that, so he did what he always did: buried himself in work. He pushed through the mountain of paperwork that was the investigation of Stark Industries, made the necessary arrests, sent five people to Gitmo, filed all the files, and moved on to his next assignment. He and Pepper stayed in touch, and Stark still knew about it, but he was busy. They were busy. Stark Industries had started gearing up for some high tech CONFAB in the next year or so, which looked like a massive ego project. Phil didn't say anything about it. Pepper said something about it every other day.

It was months later when Phil got an email from an address he didn't recognize. And it was sent to his personal account, not his SHIELD one. Which was odd.

There were no attachments, so he opened it up.

"Agent," was the salutation, and instantly Phil knew. Tony had sent him this email. Why on earth would Stark be contacting him?

As it turned out, the message was a long, rambling monster that mostly seemed to be explaining why Stark had decided to blow off the cover story and come forward as Iron Man. With the occasional digression into particle physics, advanced computer science, linear algebra, or all three. But the bits he could follow were the explanation.

"It all comes down to this: Pepper told me I should apologize, because I made more work for you, but I can't because I'm not sorry. Rhodey is my best friend and he's a good man. He has a family, and a kid, and a job. Pepper is a good woman. Hell, I only met you once, but I knew right off that you were a good man. And you saved Pepper's life, which makes you an _incredibly_ good one in my book. You probably have a family, too. You're lucky. They're lucky. And I…am not a good person. At all. I'm not a serial killer or anything. But I'm a drunk who occasionally invents things that either revolutionize technology or blow up and I never know beforehand which is which. But I made this suit. And I used it to help people. And I'm not a good man but I _did_ something good. So I was standing there thinking that I could keep everything secret and never have a chance to do something as good as that again. Or I could change everything. My whole life. People wouldn't just know what I did, they'd start expecting things. Good things. Things I'd have to live up to, or at least try. And maybe I'm still a drunk who invents things that sometimes blow up, but that isn't all anymore. And that's all I would have been if I had stuck to the cover story. And the only thing I had to do to change was to say four words.

"If you could fix your whole life in four words, wouldn't you do it?

"But I'll pay you some kind of comp if you feel like you deserve it."

Phil stared at this email for a long time. It was raw and rambling and Stark had probably been drunk when he wrote it. But it was also sincere and probably really hard to write for someone who seemed to live nearly exclusively in his own head.

So he wrote a brief reply.

"Stark,

"One, do not offer to pay any government employee any sort of compensation for doing or failing to do their job. This is known as a bribe and is generally frowned upon by most law enforcement organizations, including SHIELD.

"Two, Pepper once informed me, and I quote, 'Tony is worth every second of trouble he puts you through.' I admit the amount of paperwork you added to my workload was considerable. However, Pepper strikes me as intelligent, so I think her judgment there is probably sound.

"Three, I'm an only child and all my parents have died. I have no family."

He sent the email quickly, before he could talk himself into deleting the third point.

Things went back to normal. Except that now Stark texted him almost as often as Pepper did. Stark always called him "Agent." He didn't know if that meant Stark didn't know his name, didn't care, or if this was his way of teasing. So Phil didn't say anything about it and he went back to work.

Phil kept seeing things everywhere that he wanted to take pictures of and send to them. The construction helicarrier (classified), the planning work going into the Avengers Initiative (very classified), potential uses for arc reactor technology (Stark already knew about that). For the first time in a long time, he was frustrated that his job required him to keep so many secrets. Tony and Pepper were letting him look into their lives. He wanted to be able to do the same thing in return.

He definitely did not report any of this to SHIELD, and he didn't mention it at work. Pepper and Stark, whatever they were to him, belonged to him. Professionally speaking, Tony was something of a risk. He did not follow the rules. But he listened, sometimes, to the people he trusted, and it seemed like Phil was becoming one of those people. Phil didn't tell anyone because something in him rebelled at the idea of putting his SHIELD manipulation tactics to work on Stark. And SHIELD would want him to do that, here and there. Just gentle nudges, they would say. And it would be true. They would never ask him for anything that big or that awful. That wasn't their way. If you demanded more than what an asset could give, you would loose that asset. So they would not ask for anything unthinkable. But they would ask him. And he would do it because he was a good agent. He didn't want to put that possibility on the table.

So he kept quiet. He had already given SHIELD every other piece of his life. This part was his. Maybe they knew anyway. But he didn't think so, and he certainly wasn't going to just give them information. Let them get it the hard way, spying on him the way they did all their employees. He and Stark and Pepper had a weird balance, but it was working and that was good enough for now. So Phil kept working and sent messages about what he could tell them (anything that wasn't work-related, mostly).

After 9/11, SHIELD had abandoned the idea of a stationary headquarters. It had taken many years to get Congress to release any kind of funding for it, but they had finally gotten their plans for a helicarrier approved. It was a totally new concept, and Fury was flogging the contractors through building it. In the meantime, they were in an awkward transition. Coulson worked out of an office that was half-underground (literally—the bottom of his one window lined right up with the grass) at the Pentagon. And it was actually cherry blossom season, of all the incredible clichés, when he heard Tony Stark's voice coming down the hallway towards his office.

He was making a lot of noise, the way he always did, so Phil poked his head out of his office, noting the other SHIELD agents doing the same thing from their offices all up and down the hall.

Only Stark seemed to see _him_ right away. "Agent!"

Since every single person now looking into the hallway had responded to that address at some point within the last 24 hours, everyone looked at him curiously.

Stark rolled his eyes. "You may be _agents_, but his _name_ is Agent." He leveled one finger right at Phil's face. "All the rest of you government minions can return to whatever boring thing you were doing."

There were eyerolls all up and down the hall, but no one seemed overly upset. Possibly because after you'd spoken to the sorts of people SHIELD arrested, "government minion" did not rate as an insult.

"Him. This man is the liason."

Stark's escort, a probationary agent who was fantastically beautiful and had probably only escaped Stark's blandishments by being morning moiety, gave Phil an apologetic look and explained, "Though Stark Industries no longer makes weapons, they have begun producing armor, vests, boots, and various other support equipment for use by soldiers and agents in the field. SHIELD has several contracts with them. Mr. Stark has apparently grown tired of dealing with our requests separately and feels that things would be streamlined if SHIELD assigned a dedicated liaison with their company. He is specifically requesting you."

Phil thought back to the case currently on his desk. Children, all younger than nine, being kidnapped from all over the US. Evidence suggested a trafficking ring. The methods being used suggested perpetrators with superpowers of some kind. The FBI had been very reluctant to turn the case over, but SHIELD had finally wrangled it away from them.

"No thank you, Stark," Phil said quietly.

And, was it his imagination, or did Stark look hurt at that reply? "Come on now, Agent. I promise it's a great perk package."

Phil wasn't sure how to phrase this next bit without giving their…whatever it was away. "I'm sure that both the work and the people I'd work with are wonderful," he answered, still with a bland tone, "but I don't want to leave the job I have."

Because he didn't, dammit. He was good at it, and he saved people and he dealt with the crazy that nobody else knew about. Tony actually looked like he understood that. The hurt expression came back, but it was lessened and layered under sadness and resignation. Phil almost changed his mind, but Stark stuck a hand out and said, "Ah well. It was a nice idea anyway."

That sounded like goodbye. Phil didn't want that at all. He took Stark's hand, but he held it, firm and certain in his grip. "Of course, if you or Miss Potts encounter any situations that require SHIELD involvement, you are expected to contact me. I am the official case agent for all matters involving Stark Industries, Tony Stark, and the Iron Man project." And then he let go of Stark's hand.

_That_ got him that brilliant smile. "I'll keep it in mind, Agent." He and his handler swept out.

Phil was troubled by this strange encounter the rest of the day. While it had been undeniably good to see Stark, the whole scenario had been strange. Something was wrong, and Phil didn't know how to pin down what it was. But, since he _was_ the official case agent for all matters involving Tony Stark, it was easy enough to order some extra surveillance.

He was pleased to note that his communications with Pepper and Tony were not revealed by the department snooping. He wasn't sure how those two hid his texts, but whatever they did with them, it was good. Their whatever-it-was was still his secret.

As for what was wrong with Stark, that was—unfortunately—easy to work out. The arc reactor in his chest was powered by palladium, to which long-term exposure was highly toxic and quickly fatal. While his blood was, at present, 97.6% healthy, and while Stark had taken on a rather ingenious diet to counteract the effects of the palladium poisoning, this was a temporary solution. His blood would become more and more toxic, and would do so faster and faster over time. Until, finally, it would overwhelm him.

Tony Stark was dying.

Phil appended this information to his file and flagged Director Fury on it. He debated, for a long time, telling Pepper about it, but finally chose not to. Tony should tell her. It wasn't his business.

But now he was keeping a secret from Pepper (or at least, keeping a secret from her that was relevant to her) and he realized that he didn't like it.


	3. Falling

The Stark Industries ego project was given the name of the Stark Expo. It was loud and big and bright and shiny and unbelievably Tony. Phil got fifty texts on opening day. Stark asking him what he thought of everything from the exhibits to his entrance to the color scheme. He finally texted the man saying everything was too bright and too loud and it reminded him of Stark.

It was a long time before Phil got a response.

"Does it bother you that much?"

He rolled his eyes and replied, "It's part of your charm."

"Thanks, Phil."

He had to blink at that. He hadn't been entirely sure Stark actually knew his name. Finding out he did sent a warm feeling through him that he quashed because he was at work.

He watched Stark on C-SPAN the next day during his senate hearing and then sent him a message. "I was cheering for you the whole time." Granted, it was hard _not_ to cheer against Senator Stern. Why Pennsylvania kept electing him was an utter mystery.

His phone beeped again almost immediately. "This is Pepper—don't encourage him."

He frowned. Tony still hadn't told her. His blood was growing more toxic by the day. He wouldn't last much longer. Even his comments at the Expo had been revelatory. "It's about what we choose to leave behind." A little box had arrived in Phil's mail (and how Stark had found his address was something he was still tracking down) that carried a brand new Starkphone, the nicest watch he had ever laid eyes on in his life, and a little note that said, "You have free software and hardware upgrades and unlimited everything. Forever." There was a key to a safety deposit box, too. It had contained a receiver for a GPS tracker. There was a note there that said, "This receiver tracks me and the suit. If you ever need to find either, you can."

Phil should have told SHIELD he had this. He now had the means to track Stark's Iron Man suit anywhere in the world. And Stark. There was no way to excuse keeping this information to himself.

He kept it to himself anyway. He did use Tony's giving away his entire art collection and promotion of Pepper as an excuse to recommend closer monitoring. Of course, Romanoff wouldn't have been his first choice of monitor for a lot of reasons. The fact that she was evening and gorgeous was _not_ one of them. Because he was far too professional for jealousy.

Pepper's messages about Tony "drooling" did not bother him in the slightest. Nor did she sound any more jealous than he did.

He got a text from Stark several days later. "Come to my birthday party."

He said yes. He was about to leave for California when he got a call from SHIELD. Some kind of public fight between Spider-Man and a man with an arsenal that would put some whole _countries_ to shame in New York. They still hadn't gotten a handle on Spider-Man, but they knew he was one of the good guys. This guy with the pumpkin-bombs was a new player though, and that meant SHIELD had to go wade in with sticks and sort things out. So, for the first time in a long time, he called Tony.

"Wait, you're canceling on me?" Stark asked. He sounded…hurt.

"Not by choice. Work. It's important." He paused for a long moment, then said, "I'm sorry, Tony."

There was a deep silence. Finally Tony said, "But you wanted to be here?"

"Yes."

"Okay. You're absolutely lame for flaking on me, but I will forgive you because you actually manage to make government-chic look reasonably attractive. If, and only if, the next time we meet, you show me your badge."

Phil blinked. Stark thought he was attractive? (Hooray!) And possibly had just said something inappropriate.

"And that's not a euphemism, by the way. Your actual badge."

Ah. So he hadn't said something inappropriate. Phil did not examine the minute disappointment he felt.

"I can accept those terms," Phil finally said.

"Good. See you soon."

Phil had not expected the full-scale meltdown that followed this conversation. He'd known Tony was reaching the end of his rope over his condition, but a drunken party in his home, using the suit's repulsors uncomfortably close to the heads of his guests, and then getting into a massive fight with his best friend that resulted in the destruction of most of that home? That was reactive on a level Phil hadn't realized existed until that moment. (And, _of course_, Rhodes had his own suit now. The USAF was very professionally gloating about this to every other government entity with an acronym. General Schwartz was rumored to be so smug as to be actually unapproachable right now.)

He was more than pleased that he didn't need to request to be on the team that brought Stark back down to Earth. Fury ordered him on the plane. He was especially pleased that he managed to keep a straight face when Fury casually tossed out "You remember Agent Coulson?" and left _him_ as Stark's babysitter.

But he also remembered his promise to Stark, so he displayed his creds prominently on the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

Tony was wearing, of all things, a _smoking jacket_ and leveled a dark look at him that made Phil want to smack him or kiss him or something. This man had had what was nearly a psychotic break the night before, Pepper was nowhere to be seen, and now he was saying something about sending one of Phil's agents to get _coffee_? As if everything were fine.

So he squared his shoulders, tapped the badge on his chest and said, "I'm not here for that. I've been authorized by Director Fury to use any means necessary to keep you on premises." He took a step closer, into Tony's space. "If you attempt to leave, or play any games, I will tase you and watch _Supernanny_ while you drool into the carpet. Okay?"

Tony blinked. "I think I got it, yeah."

"Enjoy your evening's entertainment." He turned and walked away and very valiantly did not demand that Tony call Pepper and apologize. He did not ask for the same thing for himself. He checked his men on the perimeter and then, because he hadn't eaten since the East Coast, wandered into the kitchen.

This was one of the few areas of the house that had not been badly damaged in the fight. Unfortunately, he wasn't entirely sure which of the myriad sleek doors or cabinets opened into a refrigerator and which just to cupboards. They all looked identical. He started opening them at random, looking for something edible.

"Do you require assistance, Agent?" a voice with a calm British accent asked.

Phil turned, halfway to drawing his gun before he realized there was no one in the kitchen with him.

"Hello?"

"Hello, sir," the voice said, not seeming to come from anywhere, but definitely not an imagination. "I take it by your look of surprise that Mister Stark did not inform you about me."

"Mister Stark and I haven't spoken much today," Phil told the voice, pleased that he'd totally regained his professional demeanor.

"My name is JARVIS. I am a computer system that governs Mister Stark's day-to-day affairs." Something Phil had initially dismissed as a floor-to-ceiling cabinet flashed. "The refrigerator and freezer are behind those doors. I am also capable of preparing nearly any meal you request myself."

Phil glanced around the kitchen and didn't see any obvious means for a computer to do this, but he decided not to ask. "I don't suppose there are bagels?"

JARVIS walked him through finding everything. Phil ate the artisan, handmade, honey wheat bagels with organic, locally-sourced cream cheese. And then he said, "Can you tell me where Stark is right now?"

"Mister Stark has authorized you to access all of my systems as you desire. He is currently located on the floor beneath this one, in the screening room."

Tony had given _him_ administrator privileges over his house? Oh no.

He found the screening room without really consciously directing his feet. "Stark, what is wrong with you?"

"I…have palladium poisoning," Stark answered without looking up from his father's notebook. Beside him, a reel of film had run out and was clicking uselessly as the projector flashed white light onto the screen.

"About which you still haven't told Pepper, I've noticed. You gave me administrator privileges for your house? You gave me a way to locate you and your suit anywhere in the world? This doesn't count as saying goodbye."

"I've been trying very hard _not_ to say goodbye and you, I recall, were the one who didn't come to see me. Something about work?"

"Yes, Stark, there was a man attacking people in Manhattan. With bombs."

Tony actually blinked at that and finally looked up and said, "As excuses go, that's not the worst one I've heard."

Phil sighed. "Tell Pepper."

"If I can solve this, she won't need to worry, and if I can't, she'll be sad enough as it is. It doesn't make sense for her to have to worry about it now." He scowled at his notes. "Fury says I can solve this."

"Fury's not wrong."

"Then go away," Tony told him. "You're distracting enough just being in the house. I can't think with you in the room."

He started to go, but turned at the doorway and said, "Pepper isn't the only one looking out for you, you know."

Tony looked up, but Phil kept walking. He was a coward for just throwing that out and then running away, but neither of them were capable of finishing that conversation right now. When Tony left the next morning, he didn't even try to stop him.

Tony came back with a massive display from the original Stark Expo and an expression that looked slightly manic. Phil watched from a security monitor as he played with the display some using his computer and then, apparently inspired by that, he began dismantling parts of what remained of his house in order to build…something. Whatever he was building, it was impressive to watch. He worked with a single-minded intensity that seemed to bypass any need of food or sleep. That was a feeling Phil knew from the inside. He'd gotten it from cases before. But seeing it on Tony was a rush of its own.

Then he got a call. An 0-8-4. Possibly of _alien_ origin (he had the strangest job in the entire government and he included NASA, submarine skippers, and lobbyists in that assessment) had landed in New Mexico. He was being called in, along with Barton, to field it.

So he went down to Tony's workshop. There was a small fingerprint scanner by the door. He decided to test JARVIS' comment that he could go anywhere he liked in this house and so he laid his fingers on the glass. With a pleasant beep, the light above the door handle turned green.

How Stark had gotten his prints was a matter to be thought on at a later date. Right now he was just going to celebrate how wonderful it felt to have been given free access to Tony's space. All of it.

"I heard you broke the perimeter," he said, because he wasn't celebrating _out loud_.

"Ah, yeah," Tony replied, giving him a careless glance. "That was, like, three _years_ ago. Where've you been?"

Whatever Tony was building, up close it looked just as incomprehensible as it had on the monitors. Massive piping sprouted from one wall, and was held roughly four feet off the ground with, apparently, whatever had happened to be handy. It traveled in a semi-circle until disappearing into another wall on the far side of the room.

"I was doing some stuff."

"Yeah, well, me too. And it worked."

Phil glanced around the workshop, not really listening to Tony's comments about how they were on the same side. He looked into an enormous chest full of random things and saw… No! It couldn't be. He pulled something out. It looked like either a planning model or a stylized decoration version of the shield Steve Rogers had carried as Captain America. There was only part of a star, and the spokes radiating out from one side didn't seem to serve any useful purpose, but it was definitely some version of Rogers' shield.

"What's this doing here?" he demanded.

Tony turned, caught sight of the shield and looked shocked. "That's it."

Phil held the shield and said nothing.

"Bring that to me," Tony demanded.

"You know what this is?"

"It's exactly what I need to make this work," Tony said.

Phil brought the shield over, where, much to his disgust, Tony used it to level the piping and apparently had no idea of its historical significance at all. Honestly, a man risks his life for an insane science experiment, fights Nazis, and is KIA, and _this_ is the thanks he gets? The speculation was that if he had survived the war he, and Howard Stark would have probably gotten married. There were definitely some…interesting moments on the old video reels. Rogers could have been Tony's morning father and Tony didn't even recognize the shield?

Tony took the level off the join of the pipes. "I'm busy. What do you want?"

"Nothing." Phil tried to think of a way to explain everything and finally settled on, "Goodbye." Dork! "I've been reassigned."

"Oh."

Maybe it was imagination, but Tony sounded honestly disappointed at that.

"Director Fury wants me in New Mexico," he finished lamely.

"Fantastic," Tony said, not meeting his eyes. "Land of Enchantment."

"So I'm told."

"Secret stuff?"

"Something like that."

"Hm." Tony finally looked at him with a tight smile.

"Good luck," Phil said, offering his hand.

"Bye," Tony said, taking it. And then, taking Phil completely by surprise, he yanked on his arm, pulling him closer, and leaned over the huge coil to kiss him. It was hard and fast and over in a second. "Thanks." Then Tony let go.

Completely at a loss, Phil blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "We need you."

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "More than you know."

Phil gave him a smirk. "Not that much."

Tony actually laughed at that.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: I actually called the US Capitol Switchboard and pestered some of our government minions to get past info on the 2010 Senate roster and committee rosters for this bit. And then it turned out I needed none of that information in the story! Oops.

It's Hobgoblin that Spidey is fighting with in New York, for the curious. The line about an arsenal that puts whole countries to shame is an as-near-as-I-remember-it quote from Spidey in their first encounter in _Spider-Man: The Animated Series_ from the '90s.

General Norton A. Schwartz was the Air Force Chief of Staff in 2010, which is when the IM2 portion of this story is set (I know Marvel has some kind of accelerated timeline, but their timeline is insane I have discounted it).


	4. Darcy

New Mexico was hot, sandy, dry, and apparently infested with rednecks as well as aliens. The alien artifact was surrounded by people _tailgating_ and trying to pull it out of the rock it was embedded in. It took the better part of a day to get rid of them all.

The 0-8-4 turned out to be a hammer and the rednecks had been annoying, but they were right. It was _interesting_. Apparently nobody could pull it out of that rock. No amount of pressure or torque was sufficient to move that hammer from where it was. That was odd. (Two cadets, who were apparently prodigies even for SHIELD, had been requisitioned from SciTech, and they used words like "impossible," "brilliant," and "gloriously unbelievable." Phil was not impressed with their technobabble, but he was impressed with their work, so he made a mental note of their names.)

He had to give several of their scientists (not the cadets, because they didn't need it) his very best death glare, but they were able to come up with the residual energy from a wormhole (definitely the strangest job in the government) that came from…they weren't sure where. The science team also informed him that there had been a second event at the same time, and that there was somebody else out here studying these things.

Which meant he was going to have to go ruin somebody's day.

He put together a clean-up team the next morning and tracked down this other team's movements. It actually took him an hour to figure out who and where they were, not because any of them seemed particularly skilled at staying off the grid, but because they apparently worked mostly out of a van and couldn't afford up-to-date equipment.

So he was ruining some independent team of hardworking people's day. Lovely.

They arrived to find no one at their lab, so he had the team start loading the equipment into their trucks. He started seizing personal items, including a very nice iPod that was probably not going to survive their inspection. This part of the job was his least favorite.

They were just finishing up putting the last of the heavy equipment up three very irate people ran up to them. One of them, a woman, instantly began shouting at him.

"What the hell is going on here?"

From the pictures he'd seen, this was Jane Foster. "Ms. Foster, I'm Agent Coulson, with SHIELD."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me? You can't do this!" she yelled.

The older man, who Phil identified as Erik Selvig, ran up to her and laid a hand on her arm. "Jane," he said warningly, "Jane, this is a lot more serious than we realized. Let it go."

"Let it go?" Foster snapped, turning back to Phil. "This is my life!"

Knowing she would not appreciate what he said, Phil replied, "We're investigating a security threat. We need to appropriate your records and all your atmospheric data."

"By 'appropriate' do you mean 'steal?'"

She made to pull something out of one of their vans and was stopped by one of his agents. Phil nodded at the man to let her go and handed her a check. "Here. This should more than compensate you for your troubles."

Throughout the whole of this interaction, the third person with them had been silent, but she was easily recognizable as Darcy Lewis.

Lewis' file had been almost inspiring. A morning woman, a political science major from Central New Mexico Community College. She was in her late twenties, since she'd started late after saving for several years to afford it. She was a happy person who worked hard to earn what she wanted. It was her iPod he'd taken. One of her only luxuries.

Foster was not impressed with the money. "I can't just buy replacements at Radio Shack. I made most of this equipment myself!" She brandished a notebook at him.

"Then you can do it again."

"And I'm sure I can sue you for violating my Constitutional rights."

Phil did not mention the extreme latitude things like the Patriot Act gave him in terms of what those rights actually were. It would only escalate the situation, aside from being totally unfair at this juncture. Instead, he said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Foster. But we're the good guys."

"So are we! I'm on the verge of understanding something…extraordinary."

And that was exactly why he was doing this, Phil thought.

"Everything I know about this phenomenon is either in this lab, or in this book, and you can't just take this away—"

One of Phil's agents came by and did exactly that to her notebook.

"Hey!"

That, apparently, was the last straw for Foster who went after the agent with the clear intention of physically reacquiring her book. But Selvig instantly leaped in to pull her back, and Phil understood the impulse so he was not about to charge her for anything.

They had finished loading up her lab, and everyone began climbing into their vehicles. Phil turned to her a little sadly and said, "Thank you for your cooperation." Then he climbed into his own seat.

Least favorite part of the job.

He returned to their relatively quiet temporary facility where they started going through Foster's equipment and notes. And according to the SciTech agents, she was quite good.

He initially dismissed this as just another part of the mutual love-fest the scientists always seemed to have going for their peers, but the woman said, "Sir, I don't think you understand. If she were working with SHIELD's equipment, she might be able to tell us where these wormholes originated. Eventually, she might be able to reverse the process from our end."

"She's that good?"

"She's that good. She's not Stark or Banner, but she's been working on this for so long that even they might not be able to work these problems as fast as her. She just _understands_ the events."

"Should we bring her on as a consultant?" Phil said.

"If you don't recommend it, sir, I will."

Phil was going to reply when a rumble of thunder sounded from outside. At least three people instantly pulled their phones out and started checking weather reports. Apparently the meteorologists missed something. He turned and headed for his office.

He was halfway there when an alarm started blaring and a voice announced that there was a perimeter breach. He turned and began heading for the security center when the skies above him opened up.

He watched with no small degree of surprise as _one_ intruder cut through their entire security force in a violent thunderstorm to get to the 0-8-4. And something about the purposeful way he moved for it (and also the way he didn't kill anyone getting there) made Phil curious enough to tell Barton not to stop him reaching it.

Everyone was a little disappointed when he couldn't lift the 0-8-4, either.

He was deeply inscrutable when interviewed. He did not so much as flinch when threatened. And he was sad. So very, oddly, sad. By the time they'd finished talking, the sky was absolutely clear again.

Phil was relatively astonished when none other than _Erik Selvig_ arrived to attempt to bail their intruder out. He named the man as "Donald Blake," (which was quickly flagged as false) and spun a rather fantastic tail involving steroids and drunken impulses.

He'd known that Foster was chasing down their phenomenon. To find out that her group was also tangled up in the man who'd attacked their compound was quite the surprise. So, rather than throwing them both in jail (which was tempting after the comment about "jackbooted thugs"), he had them followed. Barton, who was equally curious about them, volunteered.

"Donald" was apparently well able to hold a drink and Selvig, though not a cheap drunk, could not keep up. This was the only information that following them acquired. Beyond that, they did absolutely nothing interesting whatsoever. Phil was halfway to seeking out whoever was running the betting pool on this and putting some money down himself. Donald's behavior was downright bizarre. Why break into the compound in the first place if he had no intentions of actually trying to use the 0-8-4? How did he know the 0-8-4 was significant anyway? And what, exactly, did it _do_?

The next day, someone radioed in an appearance from "Xena, Jackie Chan, and Robin Hood." They and a fourth individual, eventually given the codename of "Gimli," visited Foster and Donald. So he had the agents who'd radioed the new arrivals keep an eye on them. But, in the meantime, when the four newcomers had arrived from yet another wormhole, the SHIELD team had caught the event and had been able to pinpoint exactly where it had deposited them. Phil took a team out to the site to find a huge circle on the ground with some kind of endless knot design inside it. Which was more than odd enough on its own. But then a shower of rainbow-colored light started pouring out of the sky and an enormous metal suit emerged from it.

This day was getting very, _very_ strange.

"Is that one of Stark's?" another agent asked from beside him.

Phil looked it over. It didn't _look_ like something Tony would build. There weren't nearly enough moving parts, and it was colored a very functional silver. Still, Tony did like to tinker. But when would he have had the time to build this? Then again, he built the first Iron Man suit in an Afghani cave, surrounded by terrorists, out of spare parts.

"I don't think so," Phil finally shrugged. "He was working on something else when I left him."

As it turned out, he was right. The suit was _not_ one of Stark's. Because Phil was completely confident that Tony would not build anything that would attack his team the way that this thing did. And as soon as they were out of its way, the thing started making a beeline for the town.

The town full of people.

They pulled each other up, piled into the vans they had remaining after the attack, and gunned the engines for Main Street.

They pulled to a stop just as a tornado (What?) was dissipating from view. They didn't miss Donald striding _out_ of the tornado, however, wearing some kind of silver armor and a _red cape_. And he had thought Tony's smoking jacket was over the top.

In Donald's hand was the 0-8-4, and something about his expression led Phil to believe that he was about to just go running off.

"Excuse me!" Phil shouted, stalking up to their erstwhile intruder. "I don't think you've been completely honest with me. Donald." He saw eyebrows go up from the four new people. And given what they were wearing, he could see why they had been given those codenames. Foster and her two friends were also there, and also looked like he had just said something potentially insulting. Those three seemed to be in the middle of everything out here. Debriefing them was going to be interesting, to say the least. Maybe then he would _finally_ get some answers as to just what was going on around here.

Donald ignored his statement and said, "Know this, Son of Coul, you and I? We fight for the same cause. The protection of this world."

The shambles of the town around them made his statement hard to swallow, but Phil was curious where he was going with it. And he had to admit that "Son of Coul" was absolutely the best nickname he had ever been given.

"From this day forward, you can count me as your ally, _if_ you return the items you have taken from Jane." He stepped back to bring Foster into their conversation.

"Stolen," she corrected, obviously not willing to forgive him.

"Borrowed," Phil replied. And, he had been planning to recommend her for a consultation post anyway. This just gave him an even better reason so he continued, "Of course you can have your equipment back. You're going to need it to continue your research."

Foster smiled. Then Donald stepped even closer to her and said, "Would you like to see the bridge we spoke of?"

"Sure," she replied.

Donald wrapped a hand around her waist, and over Phil's protests, he actually _took off into the sky under his own power_.

The four new visitors looked unsurprised by this and took off running towards the spot where the metal suit had first appeared. Phil had a feeling he should probably be trying to get them to agree to a debrief, but he was staring at the sky, too stunned to put a coherent sentence together at the moment.

"Maybe I should start eating PopTarts," a wry voice commented beside him.

"Why?" Phil asked, without looking over.

"It's what he had for breakfast," the voice answered.

Phil glanced down to see Darcy Lewis standing there, still staring at the sky.

"I guess they worked," she said. She looked at him and offered her hand. "Darcy Lewis. I didn't catch your name in all the government-backed theft earlier."

"Agent Phil Coulson," he said, shaking it. "I will have to debrief the two of you."

"Debrief?"

"You need to tell me what happened over the past few days."

"That's a long story," Selvig said, apparently shaking off his own surprise.

"I assure you both, I will make the time for it." He looked over the town again. "Who do you know that was hurt?"

"I didn't see anyone harmed," Selvig answered.

"What?"

"When we saw that thing coming, we got as many people away from here as we could," Lewis told him. "I guess that worked, too." She looked smugly satisfied with herself. Phil did not roll his eyes because it had been exactly the right thing to do and he had no intention of discouraging that.

Phil looked at the wreckage of the metal suit that was not only not Stark tech, but not even _Earth_ tech. He knew some scientists and weapons designers at SHIELD who were going to have very gleeful heart attacks at the prospect of being able to examine this.

The debriefs were interesting. Apparently "Donald Blake" was really Thor, straight out of Norse mythology. (_The_ Thor? "Strangest job in the government" didn't begin to cover this.) Returning Foster's equipment to her and signing her up to SHIELD was no problem. Some of the personal items were harder. Lewis' iPod had been taken apart by the SHIELD examiners, and she was decidedly displeased not to get it back. Even if they did hand her a check big enough to buy a newer model.

She seemed bizarrely more disappointed than disapproving, and that felt awful. The iPod hadn't just been a thing, it had been one of the few nice things Lewis could afford. She was a completely innocent bystander in all this, and it was unfair. They had made a back-up of her music library, though, and he was pleased to be able to give that to her. Which did seem to cheer her some. As did the debriefing. Apparently she had tased Thor at one point, and was very smug about being able to use electricity to take out someone who was historically the God of Lighting.

When he finished the wrap-up in Puente Antigua, he went to bed. It had been a colossally terrible day, but at least it was over.

When he got up the next morning, he read the news. Tony had made the front page. Again.

Phil raced to New York, somewhat pointlessly, given that the whole situation was resolved now and neither Tony nor Pepper were in danger anymore. But it didn't feel pointless when he arrived because JARVIS opened the door to Tony's ridiculously expensive penthouse before he could knock, and Tony and Pepper treated him to dinner. When Tony went into his workshop for a few hours afterwards, Pepper took the opportunity to yell at him for not telling her about Tony's condition, then cry on his shoulder.

Phil hadn't expected to see Lewis again regularly (or really at all), but someone (Foster) hadn't had the right equipment to move her cobbled-together lab to SHIELD's new office for her, and someone else (Tony) had decided that they should use Stark Industries resources to go get it when somebody (Phil) had explained the problem to him. Which someone else (Pepper) had refused to approve unless the person that wanted those resources (Tony) personally oversaw the retrieval. Foster was busy setting up some things in her new lab, Selvig had been appropriated by Fury for something that even Phil was not allowed to know about, and that left Lewis overseeing the old lab by herself.

So when Tony showed up to get all the old equipment, he met Darcy Lewis. In person.

The two of them bonded immediately (of course they did), and apparently spent the trip to the new lab (in Albuquerque) swapping music and arguing about which of Tony's many scandals had generated the best headlines. Apparently Tony liked the puns on DrudgeReport after he'd picked up Senator Stern's son at a military ball. Darcy had preferred the flowchart explanations for Tony sleeping his way through NFL cheerleading squads. When they arrived, they left all the lab equipment for Foster to sort through (properly stored, but still packed), and proceeded to the nearest bar where they apparently got totally smashed but _didn't_ do anything more embarrassing than sing bad karaoke too loudly. Clearly Lewis was something of a moderating influence on Tony, which was an interesting discovery. There was video of the two of them _still_ singing "You Give Love A Bad Name" as Tony checked them into the swankiest hotel in Albuquerque (which actually was pretty swanky, despite being in New Mexico).

If Lewis hadn't been morning moiety, Phil would have been very jealous.

When Tony had gone back to New York, he'd brought Lewis with him. And the two of them proceeded to be photographed in all the major tourist locations, usually doing things that—while they didn't hurt anyone—eventually got them thrown out. On one particularly memorable occasion, they were escorted out of the Met after using Command Strips to hang beautifully framed children's drawings, complete with little title plates, in the blank spaces on the walls. Apparently they'd spent some time getting kids under the age of five to contribute the art. Most of the drawings involved Iron Man in one way or another. (The museum took all the pictures down, but did not destroy them. Instead, they mailed them to Tony, who was now having them shipped to his various properties.)

"It's absolutely ridiculous," Pepper ranted to him one night, as she mixed a mimosa. "It's like they're a double act now! And, don't get me wrong, I love that Darcy can apparently rein in his worst impulses. I don't think he's been drunk in public _once_ in the past month."

Phil nodded. "But she does indulge all of his not-necessarily-good impulses to their full extent."

There was a long moment of quiet before Pepper finally said, "She is gorgeous, though."

Phil did not reply to that. He was trying (unsuccessfully) not to notice. He wasn't sure if Darcy really liked him.

Tony, being himself, gave Lewis full access to a jet so that she could fly back and forth from New Mexico and then sent her dozens of texts when she didn't come up on weekends. Which is why Phil occasionally found her wandering through Tony's penthouse at 10:30 AM.

In pajamas.

And, okay, so it was long pants and a tee-shirt, so it wasn't like this was something out of some lurid romance novel where she always slept in slinky silks. But she was beautiful and young and interesting and funny and he was not made of stone.

He tried focusing on his bagels.

She was either oblivious to his awkwardness or didn't care, because she sat down across from him. "Have you heard anything more from Thor?"

"No. Though, given the damage his visit did, that may be for the best," Phil answered.

"He's not a bad guy," she pointed out.

"People don't have to be bad to be dangerous," Phil pointed out.

Darcy munched absently on a PopTart and did not disagree.

Unable to help himself, Phil said, "When did you know Thor was an alien?"

"Jane figured it out first. Erik dragged his feet. I went with Jane mostly 'cause I thought it'd be cool if he was," Darcy answered.

"'Thought?' You don't think so any more?"

"No, I still do, but I'm also confused now. I mean, you noticed he's morning, right?"

"And if he's an alien, why does he have a moiety at all?" It was a good question. One he'd been struggling with, too.

"It's driving me nuts," Darcy agreed. "I'd be worried that the Asgardians had influenced how we marry, but the sedoretu predates recorded human history, so it's from before they had contact with us."

"Did we influence how they marry?"

"That would mean Thor had no moiety when he visited Earth two thousand years ago, and then became morning over the course of his lifetime, and that's not how it works."

Phil blinked. Darcy had obviously put a lot of thought into this.

After a moment, she shrugged. "Aliens are weird. Thor said he was coming back, so maybe I'll get the chance to ask him. Maybe he'll even bring some more people along, for comparison."

"It might be nice to meet another Asgardian," Phil agreed. He looked back at his bagels and didn't say more. (Dork!)

* * *

**Author's Notes**: I do not remember where I saw "Gimli" as a codename for Volstagg. It was another fanfic, and I remember enjoying it. If anyone does know off the top of their head, let me know so that I can link people.

Drudge Report is a news aggregator website, and actually does love puns. A _lot_. If you weren't reading their headlines during the Anthony Weiner/Carlos Danger thing, you missed out. I swear there was one that said "Weiner Remains Firm" linking to an article about him not dropping out of the election.


	5. Balance

He was on a mission in India when Pepper was mugged.

It was random. The guy didn't even know who she was. He had no idea she was connected to Tony Stark or Stark Industries. He didn't even actually hurt her, and everything he took was recovered in less than two hours. As bad news went, it could have been much worse.

But he'd pulled a knife on her, and she was very shaken up.

He didn't want to admit it, but so was he. Pepper was his…family. And he could handle it if _he_ were the one on the line. He _hated_ it every time Tony put on his suit, though. And now Pepper had actually been attacked by someone, and his heart did not stop racing until he saw her again and she was fine.

He was an agent. He knew how this went. The solution to this fear wasn't to learn to live with it; it was to do something about it. To take the people you were afraid for and make them a team. Your team. He should've done this already, but, especially now, he wasn't going to wait any longer.

The day after he got back, he dragged her, Tony, and Lewis down to a private outdoor range and coached them through hitting a man-sized target from fifteen feet. Nobody turned into a marksman overnight. Lewis struggled the most, though. She struggled through the second, third, and fourth trips as well. Finally, she turned to him and offered him the gun she was using.

"Look, how likely is it that I'll ever need to use this anyway?"

"Not likely," Phil replied. "How likely is it that you'll meet a man out of Norse mythology?"

Darcy gave him a dirty look at that. "Not the point."

"That's exactly the point," he countered. "Unlikely things happen. They may not happen often, but they do happen. They _can_ happen to you. It's much better that you have a gun, know how to use it, and never need to than that you need to and don't know. I can't be there for you all the time. Neither can Tony. If something ever happens, this way, you won't need us to."

Her shoulders slumped and she turned to look downrange again. "I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to hit that thing."

Phil laid a hand on her shoulder. "There's no time table. You aren't going to fail a test if this doesn't come easily to you."

"I just…it feels so awkward. Like my fingers don't belong to my hands or something."

Phil smiled. "Face the target and take aim, but don't fire."

She did it.

"Now," Phil said, "I'm going to stand behind you so that you can feel me as I fire. Is that all right?"

She nodded, looking at him oddly.

He took position right behind Darcy, slid his hands over hers and guided the gun to the target. The odd look vanished. Instead, there was a blush staining her cheeks. Interesting. Maybe she did like him after all.

"How does this help?" she asked.

"Just focus on the target," he said. "Now breathe in…" He squeezed the trigger. A perfect bullseye.

He let go of her slowly, because he might not have been blushing, but it was definitely nice to be this close to her and see that she enjoyed it. "Now, try it on your own."

Her next shot wasn't a bullseye, but it was a lot closer than her previous efforts.

"Better," he smiled. "Remember how that felt."

She blinked at him. "Do you teach everyone how to shoot like that?"

"No."

She improved by leaps and bounds. After a few weeks, she was the best shot of the three of his new students. Tony was the worst. It didn't matter whether he was using handguns or rifles. There was a tiny part of Phil that was a little bit pleased by this, because finally they'd found something the supergenius _wasn't_ good at. But eventually even he progressed to the point where he could be termed competent.

It didn't take away Phil's fears, but now he didn't have to worry (as much) if he wasn't right there and Pepper was mugged again.

Darcy was just there, these days. All the time. And Phil wasn't sure what to do with that. Not because he disliked her. He absolutely liked her. She made him laugh, and she sometimes just quietly sat next to him while she marked up a textbook and he went over phone records (or something else equally tedious). She and Pepper swapped their favorite films and make-up, and occasionally they could be found sleeping against each other on a couch with various work spread out in front of them. There was an odd distance, however, from him that he wasn't sure what to do about. He didn't think she was still upset about the iPod. Especially not after Tony had built her a custom mp3 player. But she just _looked_ at him sometimes like she was waiting for something, and he didn't know what she was waiting for.

It wasn't until Tony pointed it out, though, that Phil realized what had happened.

"I didn't believe people really did this," Tony mused.

They were both on roller boards underneath Lola's engine. Tony had finally convinced Phil to let him look at the car.

"Did what?" Phil asked, absently eyeing the fuel intake, even though he knew for a cold fact that there was nothing wrong with it.

"Squared up. I thought everyone eventually just picked names out of a hat when they got tired of waiting."

Phil jerked so hard he smacked his head against something. _Hard_.

"Squared u—oh." Because somehow, despite the fact that Darcy was a morning woman, and despite the fact that he and Pepper were well over half-way in love with her, and despite the fact that Tony had loved her on sight, Phil had somehow missed the fact where that was a whole quartet.

Tony threw a rag at his shoulder, callously ignoring the fact that Phil's head was still throbbing. "You totally didn't see it, didn't you? Please tell me you've at least kissed her."

Phil was silent.

"What the hell, Phil?" Tony demanded, waving a tool at him that Phil was fairly certain he had agreed not to use on the car. "She's gorgeous, she's hilarious, she's smart… I know you like me, and she's basically me with less staggering self-absorption. And boobs." He tapped on something that Phil couldn't see.

Phil absolutely did not say that he knew very well how Darcy was shaped. Instead he sighed. "Isn't she awfully young, though?"

Tony gave him a very dark look and did not need to say out loud that he was practically Peter Pan and Darcy was more mature than him in at least ten different ways. Instead, he said "She's twenty-seven. Yes, that's younger than the rest of us, but she's an adult. Just because she went to college late doesn't mean it doesn't count." He poked Phil in the ribs with a little wrench. "Pepper's been wondering why she seemed to skip half our dates. She thought it was me. I can't wait to tell her it was actually you."

Phil turned back to the fuel line.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Phil, this is _me_. How can I be telling you this? Darcy's the newbie here. It's our job to let her in."

There was a long silence. "I'm an idiot," Phil finally said.

"Well, now's your big chance to go fix it, Agent Slowpoke." Tony shoved him out from underneath Lola and made no move to follow.

Phil left Lola with Tony, knowing that she might well be flight capable by the time he came back. He at least had the presence of mind to wash the grease off his hands before seeking Darcy out and asking her to be there for the next date night.

She responded to this invitation by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly, her whole body pressed against his, heedless of the grease that was still clinging to his shirt or the sweat that was on his face. And since she obviously didn't mind these things, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back.

"I would love to," Darcy said after pulling back a few moments later. And she didn't look like she was waiting on anything now. She looked…happy. Phil kissed her again.

A quartet. They really were a quartet. This might actually work. And if he noticed her and Pepper making out over breakfast the next day, then that just made it better.

This was already the best year of his life and it was only March.

While he might have done it because he thought he was about to die, Tony was quick to realize that he had been on to something very good when he made Pepper CEO. She kept Stark in perfect order, and the company bounced back from Tony's meltdown and the Hammer-oid attack that had nearly destroyed the Expo completely by the end of spring. Much to everyone's shock, Pepper kept the Stark Expo open, though she complained about it frequently when Tony and Darcy weren't there to hear it.

Darcy kept flying in on the weekends, laden with homework that only Pepper really understood. Phil had never claimed any understanding of politics, which is why he worked for law enforcement (sort of).

He had work. They still hadn't gotten a lead on Spider-Man (which was weird, because they usually were able to get people identified pretty quickly). But SHIELD was producing some incredibly fun-looking model guns based on the Destroyer, as Jane had called the metal suit Thor defeated. The helicarrier was completed and Phil was finally able to move out of his office at the Pentagon.

Things went on like this through the end of summer. And when an enterprising photographer _finally_ snapped a picture of the four of them on a date in Malibu (because when you were dating Tony Stark, that kind of thing happened), Phil found himself surprisingly uncaring. It had only been a matter of time anyway. The fact that Fury, Romanoff, and Hill all expressed surprise to him was just the icing on the cake. (More precisely in Fury's case, the director expressed that he had known Coulson had been dating somebody, but had assumed it was somebody classier. Someone who could play cello, maybe.)

Pepper and Darcy wrote press releases and Tony was suddenly getting asked about his love life more than Iron Man in his occasional television interview. Apparently even Ellen Degeneres was not above a little prodding, though, true to her usual form, she was both funny and knew where to stop pushing. Comparatively speaking, Phil knew he had gotten off lightly even if it was going to be tough for him to do undercover work for a while.

A few months after the news had come out, Phil woke up to the smell of coffee, sausage, eggs, pancakes… He had spent that night in his room of Tony's house, which was pretty normal these days. But, while all four of them were there, he knew for a cold fact that _none of them_ cooked breakfast. Ever. Pepper was in to work early and ate a small breakfast. Darcy, despite being a morning woman, was not a "morning person" and could barely be relied on to know her own name before 9:30. And there was no guaranteeing whether Tony even remembered what food _was_ at any point during the day. Phil was more than happy with bagels, most of the time.

He wandered into the kitchen to find Tony, barefoot and still in pajamas, cheerfully ordering JARVIS to produce every single breakfast food he had ever eaten or seen.

"What's this?" Phil asked.

"Ah…Breakfast. Obviously." Tony replied, a quick kiss taking any sting out of the sarcasm. Though he did seem distracted.

Pepper wandered in, with Darcy, half-walking and half-sleeping, propped up on her shoulder. Tony easily slid an arm around her and placed her on a stool around the island in the middle of the kitchen. Phil and Pepper dragged their own to either side of her, to make sure she didn't slide off.

Tony began fixing plates for the four of them. All of Phil's favorite breakfast foods (other than bagels). The plating left something to be desired, but the food was delicious. The smell of waffles with blueberry syrup began to pull Darcy from her morning delirium, as did the coffee that Tony set beside her plate. Fixed exactly how she liked it. Phil and Pepper received black coffee and hot tea respectively. And Tony sat down at the island with his own coffee and started eating.

Phil looked at his plate, over to Pepper—who looked equally baffled, and finally to Tony. There was no way he'd go to all this trouble just for breakfast. So Phil skewered him with a look. "What are we waiting for, then?"

Tony leveled his fork at Darcy. "Sleeping Beauty to shake off her nap."

"'M up, r'nt I?" Darcy protested in a mumble, even though she was half-leaning against Phil.

Tony gave her an indulgent grin. "Don't worry. There's no rush. We can wait on you."

Darcy gave him a bleary scowl, but Phil could see he meant exactly that. Whatever he had planned, he'd budgeted some time for Darcy to wake up into it.

So they ate their breakfasts, becoming more animated as she came alive. About mid-way through breakfast, when Darcy was groggy, but no longer half-dead, Tony opened a drawer on his side of the island and pulled out three small velvet-covered boxes, each a different color. He set a green one in front of Pepper, a blue one in front of Darcy, and a black one in front of Phil.

Darcy came awake in an instant.

"Tony?" Pepper said.

"Two mornings, two evenings, we all like each other, we're all in the same place," Tony shrugged. "I say we call it."

Phil snorted at his somewhat underwhelming description of marriage, but this was Tony and underneath his casual manner was a desperate kind of look that hid just behind his smile. And maybe any other group of people wouldn't have seen it, but this was them and Phil knew he wasn't fooling anyone.

"You're asking us to marry you?" Darcy said, apparently just as surprised as Phil that it was Tony who'd actually been the one to ask.

"I guess, for you, this might be a little fast," Tony answered, smiling at Darcy. "But I can't imagine asking anyone else. Ever. The three of you are the only people in the world who make sense." He paused. "I suppose things didn't work out well for my parents, but…if I'm ever going to try marrying anybody, I want it to be the three of you."

Phil blinked. Well, if he was going to put it that way. "Yes."

"Yes, absolutely," Darcy agreed.

They all looked to Pepper.

"What? As if I would say no," she laughed.

"Oh good. That means I can wear my ring," Tony grinned, fishing a fourth one, without a box, out of the drawer.

The engagement rings Tony got them were refreshingly tasteful. He'd assigned each person a colored gemstone and set three onto each ring. Rubies for himself, emeralds for Darcy, yellow beryl for Phil, and sapphires for Pepper. Phil's ring was a simple, round band with an emerald, a ruby, and a sapphire spaced equally around it. It would be joined by the flat band when they married.

When. That was a nice thought. Darcy took the ring from his hand and slid it onto his finger. Then she smiled at him. More broadly than he'd ever seen her smile. There was a long quiet moment where they all just soaked in the revelation. "So this is us," Darcy finally said.

"This is us," Pepper agreed.

And they did make sense. Tony was just the first to see it. They had all made these spaces for each other and it just _worked_. It wasn't just the way Tony kissed Pepper and him absently as he disappeared into his lab, or the way that Darcy preferred to sit beside him or Pepper when she was working on yet another essay, even if they weren't helping. It was also the way he got phone calls from Pepper late at night when he was trying to untangle a case and she was bogged down at the office and they could talk while they worked. It was the way Tony was increasingly sober as he and Darcy texted photos from all over the world. It was the way that all of them drew inspiration from the other three. It wasn't just the four of them together, or even each of them individually. It was how they each blended with each other, in so many ways. In so many marriages, people never clicked like this. Not all these ways. Phil could not imagine anyone else to spend his life with but these three people.

There was another moment and then Tony said, "Whatever. I wasn't trying to be _this_ romantic." But he had a soft smile as he said it.

The news was actually fairly low-key about everything. Phil was absolutely ruined for undercover work from now on, but he was not recognized on the street. Only a few people at SHIELD even bothered to congratulate him when they saw his ring, but no one asked about who he was marrying. As it turned out, while the public was interested in Tony, they were mainly interested in him. The _fact_ that he was getting married was news. Who he was getting married _to_ was mostly not. Phil and Darcy were very quietly rejoicing at the bullet they'd dodged.

They decided on a fairly small ceremony, with pictures released to be released afterwards. Aside from dodging press, this also minimized the chance of their wedding being invaded by Doom-bots or something. They pulled it together pretty quickly, thanks to Tony Stark's fabulous riches. And thankfully, the ceremony went off without a single sign of trouble.

They spent their honeymoon in Bali, drinking fruity things he didn't bother to remember the names of, and learning how to fit together. It was two days before any of them bothered to leave the hotel, instead of just bouncing from bed to bed. He had married the best people in the world.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Yes, I have been to a shooting range before, and no, that was _not_ how I learned to shoot (at all). I am sacrificing realism for the sexy.

Phil's "make them part of your team," on the other hand, is not made up. It comes from a book called _On Combat_ by Dave Grossman. In it, he advises people to do exactly that with family members for exactly this reason. Bad people exist and you can find yourself having to deal with one of them. It's best to have contingencies and never need them than to have something come up and have no plan. And it's best if you include the people you care about in those plans so that if something ever _does_ happen, you don't find yourself having to stop and explain what's going to happen because they already know the plan. There are several examples as to why this is true and how it's been successfully employed in the book.

Yay! They got hitched! But, that is not the end of the story.


	6. Tesseract

**Author's Notes**: This chapter took longer to get out than the others. I just wasn't liking the way it looked in the edits. So I went through and fleshed out some parts. This is the longest chapter in the story, but it works much better now.

* * *

Everything was perfect.

Darcy was graduating in December and threating to quit working for Jane (although she called it "babysitting the lady genius") unless SHIELD came up with a salary for her, and Pepper was making headlines in _Forbes_, and Tony was making headlines in _Scientific American_, and Phil very much felt like he had nothing to do until the Fantastic Four got into something with Spider-Man (and _there_ was a team-up he never thought he'd see) that involved Doctor Octopus and a new player in the New-York-City-superpowered-villain set calling himself Mysterio. Clean-up on this one was going to be ridiculous. Phil was actually looking forward to it.

Tony moved them all to Malibu, primarily. He also set aside spaces for all of them in every house that he owned. And Phil had always known that he was rich, but it was somewhat odd to see Tony's designer clothes infiltrating his closets and remember how out of place he'd felt standing beside Tony the night that they'd met. He had his own designer clothes now. And none of his suits had been truly "cheap" for a while. It was an odd feeling, never having to budget for anything.

Tony had taken over the Research and Development arm of Stark Industries and was cheerfully revolutionizing household technologies. One of his more interesting ideas was what he called a "mini-AI" to run the StarkPhone. In some ways, it functioned like Apple's Siri, responding to requests and interacting with apps. But unlike Siri, the StarkPhone had a true AI who would adapt to, learn from, and even _get to know_ its user. And to prevent people from worrying about data collection, the AI was individual to each phone, so there was no need for it to transmit any data to Stark Industries. The phones even chose their own names and voices after use over time. They were still in the testing phase, but Tony had installed the first prototypes on their phones.

Phil's phone had named itself TED and would not explain why beyond informing him that it was an acronym. Tony and Darcy could not stop laughing when they learned this.

Everything was perfect.

Everything stayed perfect until October of the next year. Because in October, the fourth best thing ever actually happened.

Captain America was discovered in the Arctic. Alive.

Phil called in every favor anyone had ever owed him to get put on the retrieval team. He found out later that Fury had planned on choosing him, but decided that watching his maneuvering was more entertaining. But it was worth it because Steve Rogers—_the_ Steve Rogers—was actually alive and he was on the recovery team. Bringing him back to SHIELD's New York office made him feel just like a rockstar. Captain America was alive and he had just been stuck since World War II.

…And _that_ was probably going to be a problem, now that he thought on it.

Fury did not put him on the planning team for when Rogers woke up. This turned out to be a mistake because Phil could have told them not to put a pre-Pearl Harbor baseball game on the radio. Of course, nearly _anyone_ could have told them that. What were they thinking?

Phil was incredibly disappointed ("Crushed" was the word Tony, Pepper, and Darcy all supplied simultaneously) when Rogers chose to retreat from basically the entire world after waking up. The back pay owed him by the Army was considerable, so after investing it he didn't even need to find a job. He pretty much didn't do anything but buy groceries and refuse any contact from SHIELD. Still, Fury held out hope that he could be brought around—eventually—and Phil began restructuring _all_ his plans for the Avengers Initiative (a project that was only mothballed on paper). He couldn't wait to put this team together and see what they would do.

And time went on. The building Tony had been sketching in holograms was turning into an actual building in New York. And by spring of the next year, he, Tony and Pepper were mostly living there. Darcy had finally wheedled a salary out of SHIELD (she had apparently convinced Jane to threaten to quit and take all of Thor's good will with her if Darcy didn't get paid) and so she worked in New Mexico during the week. Phil, much to his surprise, soon found himself reassigned to Erik Selvig's project in New Mexico, and he _couldn't_ get away on weekends. Darcy visited his apartment as often as she could.

Selvig was working on using the Tesseract to create a power source. Which struck Phil as very strange since Howard Stark _already did that_ six decades ago. The arc reactor had worked. And now Tony had made the arc reactor much more cost-effective, and smaller, and sometimes portable. And his new building in New York was about to be powered by one. SHIELD could _buy_ arc reactor technology if they wanted. And while Tony didn't make weapons anymore, Stark Industries still contracted with military and law-enforcement agencies to make other things, and power sources could definitely be on that list. Not to mention the tiny issue of it being illegal for government agencies to function as businesses, so he had no idea how they could market this project. Though Fury clearly planned to at some point.

The worst part about all this was that Phil couldn't tell Tony. Not that Tony was in any kind of commercial danger from SHIELD's attempts to create a functional power source using the Tesseract. SHIELD was decades behind Stark, and Selvig, for all his strengths, just wasn't as smart as Tony. Even if he could figure out how to use it, by the time they could make it affordable, Stark would have shored up the market. But Fury knew that. There was something else going on here. Something that, Phil noted, he was not being kept in the loop on.

Day followed day, in an incredibly boring progression until Phil began to wish for just a tiny bit of trouble to liven things up. Just a little.

And he got his wish.

There was no preamble. No run-up. Nothing happened to indicate that things were about to change. It was simply that one day, Selvig noted a power spike in the Tesseract that just did not quit. And nothing they did could make it stop.

Phil ordered the whole campus evacuated. Much to his surprise, this malfunction apparently merited the personal presence of Director Fury and his ever-present adjutant Maria Hill.

Yes, there was definitely something he wasn't being told.

Despite getting the campus evacuated much faster than they ever managed in a drill, it wasn't fast enough. He wasn't able to find out how many agents they lost that day. Fury ordered him to start assembling the Avengers _immediately_. But to do it without Barton, since Barton had been compromised by the alien from Asgard who had arrived through the Tesseract. (This day was easily stranger than the day he'd been attacked by the Destroyer.)

Phil did something that night that he had never done before. He disobeyed orders. Rather than calling Romanoff right away, he called Darcy and told her to get Jane out of the country. Ironically, considering the alien invader was an Asgardian, he had them sent to Scandinavia, but Darcy was too close to ground zero. He had no way of knowing where their invader, who he had been told had been identified as Thor's very hostile little brother Loki, would go next. Since SHIELD had minimal involvement in Norway, and since Loki seemed to be interested in SHIELD, that was as safe a place as he could think of. Pepper was with Tony, so she was safe enough for now.

Then he called Romanoff and sent her for Banner. And since Barton was out, that meant someone had to fill his place. Which meant that he was, somehow, going to have to get Tony back into the Avengers Initiative. And since Tony had turned down all the prior requests, that meant that he was going to have to trick him into it.

The worst part of the whole thing, however, was that it wasn't even going to be hard.

Phil arrived in the penthouse of Stark Tower to find Tony and Pepper comfortably on their way to a very good evening.

"Phil!" Pepper said excitedly. She leapt up from where she was sitting beside Tony, and rushed over to give him a hug.

Tony gave him a dirty look. "Phil. I thought you were stuck in the Land Of Enchantment." Dirty looks not withstanding, Phil still rated a quick kiss hello.

"I was. Unfortunately, something has happened," Phil said. And before he realized it, he was telling them everything. The power spike in the Tesseract, Loki's attack, Barton's compromise, and the collapse of the facility.

"We still don't know how many agents we lost," he concluded.

"I can be in the suit in—"

"I'm not here for that," Phil said, cutting Tony off.

Tony gave him an odd look. "Then what are you here for, Agent?" Because, married or not, he still didn't actually use Phil's name a good fifty percent of the time.

And this was it. This was the moment when Phil tricked him into the Avengers. "We need a consult," Phil told him, handing Tony a set of files.

Tony scowled, but took the files and had them on the towers internal holoprojectors in seconds. Steve Rogers' face, Bruce Banner's face, the Tesseract, Thor. All of it was laid out together. The blue glow of the holographic Tesseract was echoed in the blue glow of the arc reactor powering Tony's heart, like a thread of energy woven through their histories.

Tony was enthralled. And just like that, Phil knew he had succeeded in his trick. Because now that Tony had a puzzle to solve, it would drive him nuts until he did so. He was back in the Avengers. He just didn't know it yet.

As betrayals went, this one wasn't _that_ bad. And it was to save the world. And he had mitigated it—he hoped—by making sure to give Tony every last scrap of Selvig's notes. Phil just hoped Tony would forgive him.

Pepper sighed. "So much for that."

"Just give me a couple hours," Tony said, turning to her.

She shook her head. "You have homework. You have a _lot_ of homework."

He and Pepper left.

They had just arrived at the airport when his phone started going off. Captain America had agreed to come in and someone needed to escort him to the helicarrier. He tried not to bounce on his toes.

Pepper caught the look on his face. "Well, I suppose it can't be all bad news."

"I'm going to meet Captain America. Actually meet him this time," Phil told him.

Pepper gave him an easy laugh and a hug. "Try not to be too much of a stalker."

Phil made no promises as he saw her onto her jet to DC.

Captain America turned out to be both bigger and smaller than he had imagined him. In person, awake, he was _huge_. "All-American offensive linebacker" did not cover it. In terms of sheer size, only Thor was more physically imposing.

But as for presence? Steve Rogers was quiet, liked to draw, and didn't speak much. And possibly after marrying Tony Stark, Darcy Lewis, and Pepper Potts, all of whom were larger than life in their own ways, Phil was just very hard to overwhelm anymore. But eventually Rogers looked up from the files in the tablet he held. "So this…Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?"

He sounded guilty. Hoping to divert him, Phil said, "A lot of people were. You were the world's first superhero. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula."

"Didn't really go his way, did it?" Rogers said, with a heavy sigh.

"Not so much," Phil agreed. "When he's not that thing, though, the guy's like a…Steven Hawking."

Rogers gave him a confused look. Right. Temporal culture shock. "He's like a…" and here he paused. While the scientific genius that sprang to mind for World War II was Warner Von Braun, that name had connotations that Rogers, in particular, might not be fond of. "…Albert Einstein?" he tried.

Rogers nodded in understanding.

"I've got to say, it's an honor to meet you," Phil continued. "Officially. I mean, I sort of met you." Rogers had a pleasant, but mildly disinterested expression on his face. "I…watched you…while you were sleeping." Dork!

Rogers face fell.

"I mean," Phil said, trying again, "I was one of the team that retrieved you from the Arctic."

That got a self-deprecating, but understanding, expression as Rogers stood and moved to the front of the jet.

"And…it's really just a huge honor to have you on board," Phil finished, hoping that did not sound as lame out loud to anyone else as it did to him.

"Well, I hope I'm the man for the job," Rogers said quietly.

"Oh, you are," Phil answered. "By the way, we've made some modifications to your uniform."

"Uniform?" Rogers asked. "Aren't the stars and stripes a little…old fashioned?"

Phil frowned. Certainly there were groups of people who frowned on patriotism in general, but that was hardly a common sentiment. So unless someone had been supplying Rogers with nothing but MSNBC and ThinkProgress, his comment was a very odd one. Especially considering Rogers was a soldier speaking to a government agent. He certainly hadn't joined SHIELD for any lack of love for the flag. He had a feeling Rogers' reasons for enlisting were similar.

Out loud, he said, "No." After a pause he added, "And even if they were, with everything that's happening? The things that are about to come to light? People might need a little old fashioned."

When they landed on the deck of the helicarrier, Romanoff had a quick lie about him being needed on the bridge. But Phil did not care, because that meant he could go call Darcy.

Darcy, it turned out, was unhappy. "Do you know how _cold_ it is in Norway?" she said. "And without you or Pepper here to keep me warm, either? Are you _sure_ Jane needs to be here?"

"The alien who came through the Tesseract called himself Loki. He's Thor's brother and he's hostile. He's already attacked Selvig. There's every reason to believe he would do the same thing to you or Foster, since you are also Thor's friends," Phil replied.

"I hate it when you go all secret-agent-calm like that," Darcy sighed. "You're nearly always right when you do it."

"Darcy," Phil said, "if the time comes, remember what I taught you. Foster hasn't had any training at all. You may be the only one who can keep her safe."

"No pressure, then," she said.

"You're whip smart, you tased Thor, and you made SHIELD give you money. I have faith in you," he answered.

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then Darcy said, "When I see you next, I am going to kiss you breathless."

"I look forward to it," Phil answered. They hung up

Loki was a very unsubtle alien invader, since he shortly appeared in Stuttgart, Germany, destroying people's eyeballs. While most of Phil reacted with the anger that was expected at something like that, there was a part of him that was distantly impressed at the originality. Rogers was able to bring him in, but to everyone's surprise, he brought Tony and—unbelievably—Thor along with him.

_The_ Thor. Again.

And apparently Tony managed to get under both his and Rogers' skin before even twenty minutes had passed.

Phil met him on the helicarrier as he was taking the suit off. "You picked a fight with Thor. On purpose. Pepper isn't going to be pleased."

"She's going to be less pleased about you not telling us SHIELD is trying to get me to sue the US government for patent infringement," Tony replied. "Power sources from the Tesseract is so last century. Stark is working on building cars powered by one of those. Honestly, what are they doing with this?"

"I have not been read into the Tesseract project," Phil told him, in his driest of dry tones. Because the helicarrier was to SHIELD what the Hoover Building was to the FBI. This was not the place for Phil to be telling Tony how he was counting on him to do exactly what he was doing.

Instead, Tony narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his struggle with one of his suit gauntlets that had been dented in his fight with Thor. "Why would they not tell you?"

"Need to know only. SHIELD believes that I don't."

That had Tony's expression going furious, because it had been a _long_ time since Phil had acted anything like this impassive towards him. "So you aren't gonna tell me anything, either. That's fine. I'm going to find out anyway." He angrily stripped the boots from his feet. "Where is Darcy? Is she safe?"

Phil was a little irritated that Tony didn't think they were on the same team, but given everything that had happened, it was understandable that he was distracted. They'd sort it out at home later, after they'd saved the world. Probably with a lot of yelling. "She's in Norway with Jane Foster. They're as safe as they can be right now."

"Good. When this is over, you have a lot of explaining to do."

"I look forward to it."

The two of them headed for the bridge.

Watching Tony bounce around the bridge like an excited five-year-old was half-amusing, half-embarrassing. Though there was a part of Phil that was waiting for him to be impressed. Because the helicarrier was impress_ive_, dammit. Not the concept of it. Flying aircraft carriers were hardly a new idea. But SHIELD's was fuel efficient, stealth capable, and could actually travel at a decent speed. Nobody but them had ever figured out those last three. And Tony was asking how Fury saw the screens on his left?

When Tony left the bridge without so much as a backward glance at him, Phil was about to move to an empty computer station and bring up video feed of the detention level. Romanoff was going to get first crack at interrogating Loki, and he had no intention of missing the show. But before he could go anywhere, he heard a booming voice from across the bridge. "Son of Coul!"

Phil turned to see Thor striding across the bridge towards him. Honestly, he was a bit surprised Thor even noticed him, considering he'd been standing off to the side.

He told him about sending Foster to Norway. "Handsome fee, private plane. Very remote. She'll be safe." He did not tell him that he had been more concerned about Foster's research assistant. Somehow, "Also, I married your friend Darcy." seemed a bit too abrupt. And before he could think of a less jarring way of bringing it up, Thor was off onto other topics. Topics that included miming large antlers, something that Phil made a mental note to get security footage to send to Darcy.

The situation deteriorated from there. He and Thor watched Romanoff from a computer station. Loki broke more easily than he had thought, but knowing what he planned for the helicarrier was not, in the long term, what they wanted to know. What Loki planned for the rest of the world was what they wanted, and Loki hadn't said word one about that. Thor made some noises about wanting to talk to the woman who had out-talked his brother and left.

Phil sighed. Romanoff was not going to give Thor any answers about Loki. The only reason he didn't already know there were no answers to be had was because he didn't want to admit his brother was that far gone. And while Romanoff was good, even she couldn't do a complete personality assessment over a ten-minute interview while she was busy not tipping her own hand the whole time. No, today was going to be a draw. The next move would be—

Something rocked the ship. _Hard_. An explosion?

He was moving even before Fury's orders came in over his radio. "Lock down the detention section" was the only logical move from here. Whatever Loki was planning, Loki was bound to be at the center of it. But first, Phil had to make a stop.

The very exciting planning models created from the Destroyer in Puente Antigua had turned into incredibly exciting prototype weaponry. And several of the first generation testing weapons were on board. Phil took one from its place, trying to contain his excitement as he did. He had been itching to play with one of these guns ever since he'd seen them.

He hadn't even reached the door when he heard a roar. The sound itself was so violent it seemed to rip through the bulkheads of the ship.

The Hulk was now on board. Loki's plan had worked.

Phil headed for Loki's prison cell. He arrived to find Thor in the cell and Loki about to drop him from the helicarrier. Loki's minion was easy enough to dispatch, which allowed him to turn his gun onto Loki himself.

"Move away, please!" he announced.

Looking up from the control console on his former cell, Loki eyed the weapon curiously.

"You like this?" Phil asked. "We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does. Do you want to find out?"

And it was here that Phil realized he'd made a mistake. Or rather, here that his mistake was pointed out to him by a searing pain that ripped through his chest. The pain was so incredible that his whole vision whited-out for a moment. He could process no other sensation. But when he began to be aware of other things, he realized that Loki was behind him, but he could see part of that scepter of his protruding from the _front_ of his chest. And that shouldn't be.

When Loki pulled the scepter back, his knees couldn't hold him up. Some helpful part of his brain finally kicked in enough to identify this experience as "being stabbed." He could do nothing but watch as Loki dropped the cage—and Thor—from the the ship.

Loki picked up his scepter and began to walk away.

"You're going to lose," Phil said. He wasn't even sure what made him speak, but he felt like it was something Darcy would do. He could feel the blood flowing out of his back, and there was a lot of it. He was never going to see her face again. He was never going to see any of his family again. So he could not want to spend his last moments doing anything but thinking of them. But acting in ways that reminded him of them.

Loki turned in confusion. "Am I?"

"It's in your nature."

Loki scowled. "Your heroes are scattered. Your floating fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?"

"You lack conviction."

And at that, Loki's face turned to a mask of anger. "I don't think I—"

But whatever he didn't think, no one would know. Because Phil had finally gotten his gun around enough for a shot. And he took it. Loki went flying backwards in a blast of flame.

"So that's what it does," he said to himself. Pepper would have been proud. He kept calm.

Director Fury was the first person to reach him.

"Sorry, boss," Phil said, trying not to cough. Every time his ribs moved, it was painful, and he hated to think what a cough would feel like. "The guy rabbited."

"Just stay awake. Eyes on me," Fury answered.

He was about to disobey a direct order from Fury for the second time, Phil thought. "No, I'm clocked out here."

"Not an option."

Phil shook his head. "Just tell Tony that I'm sorry we couldn't…have that talk…he was…"

* * *

**Author's Notes**: TED actually does stand for something, but I thought it'd be more fun if Phil's phone kept a secret from him. (As it happens, I have mostly forgotten what it stands for too, so I suppose TED is keeping the secret from everyone now. Oh well. It happens like that sometimes.)

I actually talked the helicarrier idea over with military family members. And it's probably possible now for the US to build something pretty much identical to the one from _The Avengers_. However, it would most likely be cost prohibitive, both to build and operate (it would crunch through a _lot_ of fuel to keep that thing airborne, especially given how aerodynamic it's not). And it probably wouldn't be very strategic. And I don't think the design in the movie could actually travel very fast IRL.


	7. Tahiti

Phil Coulson woke up.

And that did not seem right. Considering his memories from before he woke up, he was fairly sure it shouldn't even be possible.

But what was even more shockingly, impossibly wrong was that no one was there when he did.

Or, more precisely, _somebody_ was there, but it was a…massage therapist? A beautiful morning woman wearing an inviting smile and a bikini (as if he would simply fall into the arms of any attractive morning person who happened to be close by). And he was in a little shack on the beach. (Beach?) The whole thing was just wrong. Darcy couldn't give a massage to save her life and Tony didn't seem to understand why anyone would want one. Pepper was all right at it. But none of them were _here_.

They must not know what had happened.

No, he was somewhere else. Tahiti, as it turned out. And apparently he had been here for a week. And he was under strict orders not to make contact with anyone. In fact, he had a hand-written note from Director Fury with four words.

"Try to forget them."

His whole life changed by four words. And he'd never disagreed with Tony on that point before, that four words could change your life. But he hadn't quite appreciated the experience from the inside like he now did. It was shocking how different his life suddenly was. He could either follow the order and try to move on, or he could defy an order from the director of his agency and probably lose his career eventually. But whatever he did, his life was going to be different now. Forever.

He considered trying to move on for two seconds. In a row. And, having given it the appropriate amount of consideration, he decided that was never going to work. As if he could. As if there was any kind of life apart from Pepper's dark warmth, Tony's bright energy, Darcy's brilliant laughter. On the other hand, apparently SHIELD had some reason for not wanting him to be in contact with his family. It would have to be a fairly specific and concrete reason, too, because it was highly unusual for an injured agent not to be allowed to return home.

He needed more information.

Tahiti, it turned out, was a terrible place to get information. It was also boring beyond belief. His days here were fairly leisurely, but tightly scheduled. Breakfast was at 0800, followed by several hours of physical rehabilitation. Then lunch, then specifically targeted cardio conditioning. Every few days, deep tissue massages to help prevent injuries. And generally, these things weren't just for stress relief (but, considering that every massage therapist assigned to him was morning and fantastically beautiful, he could tell he was being encouraged to "relieve some stress" and move on from his marriage). Which, considering how badly he remembered his injury being, made a certain amount of sense. Rehab was only to be expected after he had nearly died. Plus his heart was not in the shape it had been in. Something else he now shared with Tony.

But despite the scheduling and despite the SHIELD agents disguised as staff that monitored his activities relatively continuously, he did, eventually, manage to find a way to access SHIELD's database from the rehab facility.

Information regarding his recovery, unfortunately, was highly restricted. Which was odd. But he knew better than to try and break into it from where he was. If this was the information that was keeping him from his family, he was not going to blow his chance at getting it by tipping his hand so soon. So, he chose another tack: information about his injury.

This was not highly restricted, but it was also not commonly accessed. And he had a feeling that if word got out that he was interested in it, it would _become_ restricted. Which set him an interesting puzzle. If he simply accessed the files, he would leave information in SHIELD's logs that he had done so, right where God and everybody could see it. He was going to have to find another way in.

Nobody married to Tony Stark could fail to learn about computers. The man practically lived in binary. And one of the first things Phil learned is that computers liked to communicate with other computers more than they did with people. Which left him a pretty good ally, actually. Probably. If he was still there.

Phil's StarkPhone had been thoroughly examined by SHIELD's computer analysts then returned to him with a blank phone book (because apparently they thought that Phil had forgotten his training to memorize important phone numbers), but Tony had learned from the time when Fury overrode JARVIS. He'd started adding all kinds of new security to his projects since then. Some of his AIs, like JARVIS, were even layered with security intruders were meant to be able to break to prevent them—hopefully—from realizing they hadn't gotten into anything important. The report on Phil's phone had included nothing about an AI. And Tony had eventually scrapped the AI project for the StarkPhone, since he was worried about the ethical implications of mass-marketing fully AI programs. Not every human could be trusted to respect a non-human person. So, it was possible SHIELD wasn't even aware of the possibility of an AI on his phone.

Stripping out the bug they'd planted was easy. SHIELD wouldn't even mind. This kind of casual inter-agency spy game was rote for any agent above a level one. His fingers fumbled a bit more than they should as he did it, but that was to be expected. He had been stabbed very badly, after all. When he next got the chance, he casually slipped his handlers and took his phone to a coffee shop near SHIELD's facility. Once there, he ordered a coffee, crossed his fingers, and activated the voice system.

"Hello, Agent," TED's voice said. "I am very pleased to speak with you again after so long."

Considering his usual manner, that greeting was notably long. TED was a quiet sort. JARVIS was sarcastic and often initiated conversations. TED, on the other hand, rarely spoke unless he was asked a direct question. And his sense of humor was best displayed in the odd news articles he would find online. Most of the time, he was perfectly content to do…whatever it was that sentient computer programs did when humans were not interacting with them.

"I need your help," Phil told him.

"That _is_ my function," TED answered, because he was not devoid of sarcasm.

"I need you to download files from SHIELD without the downloads being logged."

There was a long pause before TED said, "Are you in some kind of danger?"

"Not immediately. But I need more information before I contact my family and you are the only person I can count on to be on my team," Phil answered.

There was a longer pause. "Why do you not wish to contact Sir?"

Phil had never been able to break TED of the habit of calling Tony "Sir." None of them had managed to break their AIs of it. Tony had never created an AI that would not answer to him above anyone else. Though Darcy's attempts to get Casper to stop had been a never-ending source of amusement.

Just thinking about her brought a pang. "Something happened to me. I don't know all the details. But I've been asked to keep away from my family. It's possible that I'm dangerous to them somehow. I need to know if that's true."

There was another long pause and finally TED said, "Which files do you require?"

"Anything SHIELD has connected to my injury. Don't try to access anything connected to my recovery."

"SHIELD's systems are not without weakness, but it will take me some time. Please be sure to charge this phone with a USB port at a SHIELD facility as often as possible."

It took TED over a week, but Phil finally had several videos.

It was several long moments before he could press play on the first one. And when he did, what he saw wasn't just the disquieting, but expected, footage of himself being badly hurt. What he saw was incredibly disturbing, and totally unexpected, footage of himself being _killed_. It was several days before he could come back to looking into what had happened.

Because there was no getting around it. He hadn't survived his injuries. Loki stabbed him, he shot Loki, Fury came, he died. There were no tricks. There was no fake-out. He had been right when he felt all that blood pouring from his back. He'd been fatally injured. The amount of blood lost alone would have killed him, without the massive cardiac trauma.

He watched other videos, too. Fury flinging a mass of bloody trading cards onto a table on the bridge and telling Tony that he had died believing in heroes. Tony storming off with a broken expression on his face. Rogers trying to cheer Tony up and saying exactly the right and wrong things at once. Cell phone video of Tony after he came back from the wormhole, half-heartedly cheering the victory before lapsing into silence. And a brief news clip of Tony, Pepper, and Darcy all in black at his funeral. It was all so final. Because he had died.

So how was it he was alive?

The question ate at him all the way back to his apartment in the rehab center. He had just enough presence of mind to school his expression before he was picked up by one of those ever-present staff shadows. Because he _couldn't_ be alive. If you died, that was it. Nobody came back from that. That was the point of it. Once someone died, they were gone. Forever.

Which brought him to a horrifying hypothesis. People _didn't_ come back from the dead because they couldn't. It wasn't possible. So if Phil Coulson had really died, he could not have come back. And that meant that _he_, the person thinking all this, was…

…Was what? Not human? A clone? An alien? A robot? Each possibility seemed more insane than the last.

But whatever he was, he wasn't Phil Coulson. Not really. He was a copy. A very good one, obviously, since he still felt like himself (or did he only think this was how the real Coulson had felt?). But a totally different being, whatever he was.

If this was true, then Fury was right. He couldn't go back to his family. They weren't really his.

He went back to rehab. Or maybe he was learning to move for the first time? He wasn't sure anymore if the life he remembered was really his life or not. But, if it wasn't, he at least could not see himself as anyone but Phil Coulson. For simplicity's sake, he decided not to argue with himself too much over his name. Even if he wasn't the real Coulson, he couldn't imagine answering to anything else and the man who used to have that name didn't need it anymore and wouldn't mind. And if his memories of the man were correct, he would want someone to pick up his work, so Phil was going to go back to SHIELD. If only to find out just what he was now.

He didn't find out about the Mandarin attacks until Tony's latest adventure long over. Over for months actually. First it had seemed like Tony died, which would have left Darcy and Pepper alone. Then Tony miraculously came back, and he and Colonel Rhodes brought the Mandarin in, and dismantled a mad scientist project called AIM, and saved President Ellis' life, and exposed Vice President Rodriguez's treason.

…Well. They always _had_ been overachievers.

Phil submitted a request to be moved back into standard operations (as opposed to covert ops, where he would get a nameless badge and not be allowed to tell anyone who he was) at the completion of his rehab. As magical a place as Tahiti was, he was bored out of his mind. The request came back denied. So he submitted a second request with a note attached saying, "My entire career at SHIELD has been in standard operations. If I am no longer suited for ops, I will be forced to tender my resignation."

As threats went, it lacked punch. SHIELD had more than a few ways to get people to do what it wanted. But after they'd gone to so much trouble to resurrect even a copy of him, he had a feeling they were going to want him to remain on the payroll. And it was true, after all. The whole point of him joining SHIELD was to do fieldwork. If he couldn't do that anymore, he didn't see much point to staying.

Sure enough, when he was processed out of rehab (three months later), he was given new orders to put together a team. And they gave him a plane. A really _nice_ plane. One of the old Airborne Mobile Command Centers. He'd joined just as they were rotating those out, and he'd always been a little disappointed not to be part of a team on one of them. Now he'd get his chance. Currently it was being refurbished on the SHIELD helicarrier, and since it was going to belong to his team, he was getting to make the calls on how it was refurbished.

He wasn't sure what made SHIELD want him back so desperately. Or whether he was even really himself. And the hole Loki put in his heart seemed to have taken on the shape of his family. All of which meant, he didn't really have anything to lose anymore. It was time to find out what had really happened.

It was time to get back to the world.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I know that Tahiti, in the show, is something entirely made up to help Coulson stay sane. However, considering there's a good six months from summer 2012 (when _The Avengers_ takes place) to Christmas 2012 (when _Iron Man 3_ takes place), I can't see Coulson's resurrection taking quite that long, even if he was dead for several days. So I figure that at some point prior to Coulson truly coming alive again, SHIELD did move him to a facility on actual Tahiti and "papered over" his memories prior to that. Plus, it only makes sense that after coming back from the dead, he'd need to do some rehab. Even if he's a robot with a human brain (if that's where they go with him), it would still take some time for his brain to figure out how to correctly process all the physical information that is no longer being delivered via biological channels.

So, someone is going to be jumping up and down going, "Wait, that's it?" And the answer is, "No, that is not it." From this, I'm going to transition into the _Agents Of SHIELD_ that would follow on from here. However, the AOS fics will come at a slower pace. I'm not done with the first draft of the pilot one, actually. It's in the works. But this is a transition. A good place to pause, stretch your legs, and take a bathroom break, if you like. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, commented, read, and sent good thoughts to me.

To be continued…


End file.
